Fated Souls
by Everything-In-Focus-94
Summary: Martha completely messes up history and even worse the Doctors gone awol and cannot sort it out for her. So she goes at it alone but can she solve the problem without breaking her own heart?
1. Chapter 1

Fated Souls

This is the way the Doctor had described the idea of _Fated _souls to me. When you think of Romeo and Juliet... yes Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, that he concocted as his leading tragic love story and probably the most well known and loved romantic story of all time, right?... WRONG.

Not many people know this but Romeo and Juliet were a pair of Fated Souls not Star-struck lovers. A pair of souls that are literally fated to be together, live the story of their life and then are cleverly implemented into a genius's imagination to be written about and cherished for years to come. And it's not only that but the SAME pair of souls are pretty much guaranteed to meet again, under different circumstances yes, but the same souls nonetheless... You don't believe me do you? I mean sure that's fair enough, I mean I was a bit sceptical when The Doctor told me that real Rick Blaine and Ilsa Lund from Casablanca are sort of the same people as Romeo and Juliet and stranger still that in a few years time as The Doctor himself was a fated soul, there would be books and even a television show about him, not that he watched it. He feared he would see his end and he forbids all of his companions from watching.

And thats when I believed him, the way his face sank when he said that he wished he could, since then he may have been able to save Rose. But that's another story for another time, since it is strictly forbidden to interfere with any pairing of fated souls. And I mean ANY pairing, not just romantically but friends as well. And that's when the troubles came, because me still not _quite _believing in Fated Souls was casually wandering around London in 1884. The Doctor had dropped me off stating that he was going to be no more than two hours... it had been 6. But once again I diverge from the real story. You see as I was wandering around London in 1884, minding my own business, I kind off bumped into the most famous detective of all time and lets just say he was more than just a bit taken with me. And even worse... I was taken with him as well.


	2. Chapter 2: Baker Street

Baker Street

"Bloody, six hours" Martha muttered as she walked past what appeared to be the same tree for about the 20th time. She slumped on a doorstep only to receive reproachful glances from the women on the streets. She got up and dusted herself down, feeling like a total idiot in an emerald green corseted dress... in the middle of summer. Sure she had received appreciative glances from men and a woman alike albeit for different reasons, but a dress like this in the middle of summer, was completely ridiculous and she marvelled at the women who did this day in day out.

She walked slowly down the high street going further than she dared go before, quite frankly if The Doctor was the one who lost her he was the one who could bloody well find her. She looked down a side street and chuckled to herself.

"Baker Street" she thought. She walked a few metres down thinking about how she had always wanted to meet Sherlock Holmes as a young girl. She had thought that the dashing young detective who solved murders with his good friend Doctor Watson, was pretty much the epitome of men and she had wanted to follow in his footsteps, becoming a consulting detective. Her father had sharply reminded her that consulting detectives didn't really exist and so she had settled for the profession of her hero's sidekick.

"Not that I've been able to take my exams yet." She muttered thinking that she could have taken her exams, in the time he had taken to run his errand. She halted her train of thought as she levelled with a number that almost made her heart stop.

"221 Baker Street" she whispered. Could it be possible? She moved as slowly as she dared, in fear that the house that she had dreamed about as a little girl would disappear. She barely blinked, barely breathed just took one step at a time towards the black door. She stopped and peered at a faded name tag under the main one. She couldn't make it out.

"Damn it!" she whispered reproachfully. She gingerly took the door knob in her hand and twisted it. The door creaked open. She peered inside seeing nothing but a grand staircase.

_Look Martha, Sherlock Holmes and Watson are fictional characters, this is pure coincidence._ She thought to herself. But something still forced her to open the door slightly wider, and she took her first step into the house that she had dreamed about every night as a child.

The house had a strange smell to it. Not a bad smell per say but strange. Sort of a mixture between tobacco and cinnamon. Martha's stomach squirmed at the thought of tobacco as she envisioned Watson and Holmes smoking their pipes together deep in thought, but she sharply reminded herself that nearly a third of all people had smoked in this era. But even still the house smelt homely. Familiar smells filtered from the kitchen and Martha could defiantly pick out the definitive smell of roast beef roasting in an oven and her mouth watered at the thought of it.

There was a sudden banging above her, the sound of a door slamming. Feet clattered above her and voices clearly arguing rang from the floors above.

"You have to control your friend, Doctor" the first voice shouted. A second voice shouted something illegible clearly in defence. The footsteps on the stairs paused and the first voice said something to which the second voice whispered something back, clearly in apology.

Martha panicked and ducked behind the large and concealing staircase. She was suddenly reminded that she was technically trespassing on private property, and last time she checked the police in this time didn't mess around with their punishments. Footsteps thundered past her head, the owners themselves in an awkward and stony silence. The taller of the two men opened the main door and ushered the other man out. He bowed his head and let out a deep sigh.

"You would not believe what he's done now, Nanny" he said exasperated. A woman's voice clucked sympathetically and offered something that clearly interested the man, who entered a door on the right. Clattering of cutlery suggested that it was most likely food. Martha peered at the door which he had entered from her hiding place. She could _clearly _see him which meant if she tried to make her escape through the front door, he would see her no doubt about it. She looked at the stair case.

"I suppose it's possible there's an escape up there" she muttered to herself. She gently eased herself out of her hiding place and watching the man in the kitchen at all times she started up the stairs.

"Did you hear something just then?" the woman said. Martha squeaked internally and as quickly and quietly as she could rushed up the stairs. She saw the ajar door as she heard the scraping of chairs being pushed back. She flung herself into the door and closed it as gently as possible. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She opened her eyes and froze. There was a man hanging from the rafters, eyes closed apparently dead. With that she let out a scream and consequently passed out where she stood. And she was meant to be a modern woman, fainting... jeez.


End file.
